


Mine Was the Only One

by tiigi



Category: Primal Fear (1996)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, murder and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: They aren’t friends. They aren’t here to get to know each other. Aaron is here on suspicion of murder, and Marty is here for his job.Except... he isn’t.
Relationships: Aaron Stampler/Martin Vail
Comments: 15
Kudos: 29





	Mine Was the Only One

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom still won’t leave me alone :’)
> 
> The title is from a particularly beautiful poem by Emily Dickinson 
> 
> _There is no other in the World_  
>  _Mine was the only one_

Helping the kid was a bad idea from the start. Marty knew it the very first time he first saw Aaron, sitting alone on that bench with his shoulders hunched and his hands folded in his lap. He’d looked so…  _ innocent,  _ so small, so harmless, and Marty had known he would be trouble. 

Marty’s no idiot. He’s seen the pictures, seen firsthand what happened to Rushman. It would have to be one sick son of a bitch that could do that to another human being, and when he looks at Aaron he just sees a scared kid. Someone who’s had a hard time getting through life unscathed, someone who needs protecting. That’s kind of what Marty does.

He knows it’s not good, the way he trusts Aaron almost immediately, but what is he supposed to think? The first time Marty ever talked to the kid, he was soft spoken and confused, so eager to please, so desperate to prove to Marty that he wasn’t a killer. Marty likes to believe in the intrinsic goodness of people, even despite the depraved shit he sees on a day to day basis, and something deep inside is telling him that Aaron isn’t a bad person. Not really. He’s learnt to trust his gut by now.

But Aaron is distracting, is the thing. Marty tells him not to smile and he smiles, all radiant and pretty like he just can’t help it, like that’s just the reaction Marty has on him. He asks Aaron a question and it’s all, ‘yes, sir, no, sir’ until Marty wants to cover his ears and block it out, wants to wrap Aaron up in his arms and sneak him out of this place. He doesn’t belong here, behind bars, somewhere he could be hurt without anyone ever caring. He’s so painfully shy and withdrawn already, and a jail sentence would crush whatever spirit he has left. Marty swears to Aaron that he won’t let that happen, but inside he’s tense all the time, nervous that this will spiral out of his control.

It does, inevitably, when Aaron sticks his hand down Marty’s pants. 

No matter what he does, no matter what Aaron promises him, it all comes back to Marty’s defence. At the end of the day he’s a lawyer through and through, and whilst real, human feelings may be affecting that now, he’s still capable of coming up with a real strong argument in Aaron’s defence. It’s the elephant in the room, the storm cloud hanging over every conversation they have. They aren’t friends. They aren’t here to get to know each other. Aaron is here on suspicion of murder, and Marty is here for his job.

Except… he isn’t, because he’s pro bono.  _ That’s  _ what it keeps coming back to. That’s what Aaron can’t seem to figure out, can’t seem to forget. He says ‘thank you’ ten times in the hour-a-day they have together, as though Marty will forget his gratitude otherwise, and one day he decides that isn’t enough for him. One day he decides to show how thankful he is in another way.

Marty’s on the bed. It’s a mistake, sitting down, and he knows that. It’s not that he thinks Aaron will hurt him, not at all, and even if he wanted to this cell has been fairly thoroughly crime-proofed. No, Marty shouldn’t get so familiar because it’s too easy to forget they aren’t close, aren’t friends. He’s never done it with any of his other clients, not even the sweetest, prettiest ones, but he does it with Aaron. He figures Aaron is just… different. He perches on the edge of Aaron’s bed in the tiny cell he occupies, and he rifles through his notes while Aaron watches.

He doesn’t even realise Aaron is moving until he’s already right up in Marty’s space, shoulder to shoulder, thighs pressed together. Aaron looks up at Marty with big eyes, sincere and sharp with intensity.

“I just want you to know how g-grateful I am for your help, Mr Vail. I really don’t know where I’d be without you.”

It’s ridiculous how flustered he is just from having Aaron nearby, and he can’t think of any quick response. Instead his words come out soft and tender and entirely inappropriate.

“I know, Aaron,” he says, wishing he could stroke Aaron’s face, run his thumb over the kid’s bottom lip. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“Okay,” Aaron looks down again, and his cheekbones are dusted pink. “Then I wanna show you.”

And before Marty can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Aaron’s hand settles over Marty’s cock through his slacks and it feels so good that he could cry. 

“Jesus, Aaron,” Marty says, startled. He should say no, should push Aaron away, should set up boundaries between them because clearly Aaron doesn’t know what a healthy relationship between them should look like, but he doesn’t do any of that. He wants this too much to sabotage it for himself, so he spreads his legs wider and he doesn’t protest when Aaron starts unzipping his trousers.

It doesn’t take long, which would be embarrassing if Aaron wasn’t so awkward about the whole thing himself. He acts like he’s never touched a dick before, and Marty wonders how far he took the whole Catholicism aspect of his life. These are the kinds of things you can think about without feeling guilty when another man is jerking you off: whether or not he gets himself off, what he does, how he likes it. These are the things he’s never let himself think about before when it came to Aaron, and now he’s finally letting loose the thoughts threaten to overwhelm him. 

It happens more times than Marty would like to admit. He thinks to himself, every time he leaves the cell, that this is it. That was the last time, that was it, no more. It’s a goal he sets himself almost every day, and every day he fails, goes back for more. In the face of Aaron’s charm, he’s weak. 

He never stood a chance.

*

Marty watches the tape only once; in one setting he sits down and powers through it, video by video, each worse than the last. After it’s over, all he can think is… is it? Really? The kid had said there was only one, but Marty has no way to know for sure. Marty stands up, walks to the bathroom as calmly as he can manage, and throws up.

This is a big fucking deal. This is a  _ big  _ fucking deal in an even bigger fucking case, and his client never told him about it. Aaron never told him. This detail could change everything - it’s going to be good or bad for them, Marty can’t tell yet, but one way or the other he knows it’s going to change everything. It already has.

And things change even more when Marty confronts Aaron. He tells the kid that he knows about the tape, that he watched the videos, and it’s cruel and unnecessary but he says it anyway. Maybe Marty is feeling a little cruel, a little betrayed. He’s angry as well, because he’s Aaron’s goddamned lawyer and how could he not mention this fucking detail?

But Aaron gets angry as well, and suddenly he’s lashing out, fists and words altogether so that Marty doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. This isn’t Aaron, he knows that much, but he doesn’t know what to make of it, of Roy. 

In a way, it’s a relief: finding out what really happened. There was no third man - unless you count Roy - and there never was. He can stop looking now. Aaron is innocent, in a way, and he can stop doubting that.

But it makes things harder as well. He can’t change the plea in the middle of a trial and he’s already kicked things off with a big old ‘not guilty’. He’s not angry at Aaron anymore, he’s angry at himself. 

Aaron -  _ Roy  _ \- can tell. He pushes forward to kiss Marty, angry and possessive, and Marty leans back.

“What is it?” He asks, tone mocking, a sneer twisting his mouth. “You don’t want me anymore, is that it? You find out I’m used already and you change your mind? You’re just like him, Counsellor, and he got what he deserved.”

“Roy,” Marty says, holding up his hands, meaning to placate but totally unsure how to do that. “That’s not what I meant.”

His face is still stinging from where Roy took a swing at him, and the back of his head throbs from being pushed so hard into the wall. He sinks to the floor and sits, watcing as Roy does the same beside him.

“What the fuck is it, then?” He hisses. Then he blinks, eyebrows furrowed, and winces like he’s been hit by a sudden splitting headache. In a smaller, wavering voice, he repeats, “What is it?” This time he’s Aaron.

” There’s nothing,” Marty says, guilt rising in his throat. His chest feels tight and his breaths are shallow, uneven. “There’s nothing, Aaron, come here.”

He can forget it. It’s upsetting Aaron and that’s the last thing he wants to do, after everything the kid has already been through. How could he have been so thoughtless?

“Come here, it’s okay,” he says again, and Aaron comes to him, into his arms. Marty rests one hand over the nape of Aaron’s neck and curls the other around his waist. He feels so fragile in Marty’s arms, like he’d be blown away with a single breath. What they have is so tentative, so uncertain, and Marty is terrified to lose it. 

God, he could lose it so easily.

Marty doesn’t object when Aaron kisses him, just the lightest touch of their mouths together. He tilts Aaron’s face up with a finger under his chin and kisses deeper, harder, let’s Aaron steal the breath from his lungs and doesn’t let himself think about blood and guilt and life sentences. He just thinks about Aaron, about the way he tastes and the way he feels against Marty’s chest.

He slips a hand down to the crotch of Aaron’s tracksuits and grips him, touch light and teasing. Aaron keens and presses his face into Marty’s neck. The tip of his nose is cold but his cheeks are flushed, mouth damp with spit and slightly parted. He’s panting, cock hard where Marty strokes him through his clothes.

“I do want you,” he says, pressing his own erection against Aaron’s hip as though for proof. There’s a damp spot on Aaron’s tracksuits where the tip of cock must be. “I want you.”

He feels the curve of Aaron’s smile against his neck, and the flutter of eyelashes as he finally closes his eyes. Marty’s heart beats faster. For the first time in years, he’s scared.

*

He should have known. It’s the only thing Marty can think, as he watches Aaron move about in his cell like a bird in a cage. He should have known. 

All the signs were there, weren’t they? Was Marty just willfully ignoring everything that pointed towards Aaron being really, truly guilty? Did he just not want to see it? Moment’s ago he was holding the boy in his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead because the guard was right outside and they couldn’t risk being seen. He had smiled as Aaron had said ‘thank you, Mr Vail, you saved my life,” so sweet and so sincere. He had tried his best to seem calm but on the inside he felt like he would burst with excitement at the prospect of Aaron getting out in only a few months. He could live with Marty maybe, if he wanted, and he could get a small job somewhere and they could just  _ live,  _ could just exist side by side with no bars in between them. The handcuffs around Aaron’s wrists had felt so inconsequential when they’d pressed into Marty’s back, because Marty knew they’d be gone soon. Aaron would be free, and Marty would have freed him.

And now– now. Now what? All his plans feel useless, every moment he spent waiting so eagerly for this wasted. Aaron is Roy, and Roy is Aaron, and whoever he is, he’s guilty. He’s a murderer. 

Marty has gotten murderers off before, has gotten them reduced sentences or freed them completely, but those times have never felt like this. He feels stupid now, because he really  _ believed  _ Aaron. That was the worst betrayal of all - the way Aaron won him over so completely, the way he was able to throw it away so easily. Marty wants to scream, but he doesn’t want Aaron to see the damage he’s done. That would only give him more satisfaction. 

But then Aaron is pressing closer, smirk still fixed to his face, his eyes dark and heavy lidded. 

“Come on,” he says lowly. “Don’t tell me you’re such a stickler for the rules. Rushman had it coming, Marty, you know he did.”

“And Linda?” Marty can’t help but say, biting back anything else that might slip out, any anger or frustration or pain. “Did she have it coming too?”

Aaron waves his hands in a dismissal. The chain of his handcuffs make a small, metallic  _ clink  _ sound. It seems to echo around his cell.

“She would have ended up dead one way or another. She would have offed herself eventually, or Rushman would have done something. Really, I was just doing her a favour.”

“I’m sure she’s real fuckin’ grateful, Aaron.”

Aaron laughs, a delighted sound, sharp like it was startled out of him. He claps his hands again, happy that Marty is playing along. He’s giving Aaron exactly what he wants,  _ again,  _ and he just can’t seem to help himself. He’s powerless when it comes to Aaron, and it’s foolish to pretend otherwise. 

“Come  _ on,  _ Marty! Don’t tell me you’re upset. This don’t have to change anything.”

Marty steps back, shocked, though he doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be. Of all the disgusting, depraved things Aaron has done, this is fairly low down on his list. It would be pretty high up on Marty’s, though. 

“You’re sick,” Marty says through clenched teeth. 

“Yeah.” He stretches the word out so that it just sounds mocking and sarcastic. “Real sick. That’s what your fancy doctor said, Counsellor. That’s what you said. They’re gonna help me get over my  _ sickness.” _

“I could tell,” Marty threatens, feeling ridiculous and childish.

“You don’t think I really believe that, do you?” Aaron cocks his head. His eyes slide down from Marty’s face to his feet and back up again, slow and thorough. “No,” he says eventually, quiet and heated. “You shouldn’t tell. You wanna get back at me Marty? Don’t tell. Get your hands dirty for once.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Hit me,” Aaron says, voice violent in its clarity. “Hit me. Make me hurt. Make me regret lying to you.”

“I’m not going to  _ hit you,  _ Aaron, Jesus.” The thought turns his stomach, makes him feel psychically sick. 

“Why not? I hurt you, didn’t I? Don’t try and say I didn’t, I know you. You started to care about me, didn’t you? So hurt me. Hurt me like I hurt you.”

“Aaron–”

“You can fuck me if you want.”

_ “What?” _

“You can force me. Really make me regret it, make me cry. I bet the guard wouldn’t care.”

“Fucking  _ stop it,”  _ Marty shouts, lashing out finally. He can’t bear to think of himself doing anything to hurt Aaron, and it’s even worse when he realises that everything Aaron just described are things that Rushman already did to him. 

Maybe he’ll always be a sweet, innocent kid to Marty, just someone in a bad situation, not given the opportunity to grow up good. Aaron isn’t a bad person, Marty thinks. He’s just been exposed to too many evil, ugly things to want to be any different.

“Hit me,” Aaron says again, but this time his eyes are hard and he looks angry, he looks desperate. He steps forward to grab Marty’s hand in one of his own and tries tugging him forward, but the handcuffs prevent him from doing any damage to himself.

“No.” Marty yanks his hand back. 

“Then go.” Aaron turns his back on him, and Marty feel the rejection like a punch to the gut. “Leave, if you don’t want to play anymore. Get out of here. You did your job.”

“And you did yours,” Marty says. “You played me well, didn’t you? You must have thought everything out.”

He comes up on Aaron from behind and lays a hand on his shoulder, too gentle to be any kind of threat. Aaron turns, and Marty sees the change in him instantaneously. His features are softer, his shoulders curved around himself protectively like wings. 

“M–Mr Vail,” he says, and Marty’s stomach lurches. Aaron is torturing him. “I’m sorry. I never m-meant to hurt you. Please. Please–”

Marty grabs his neck, so quick that Aaron stumbles back, blinking in genuine surprise. For just a moment, he drops the act, and Marty thinks he can see something real in there, something beyond Roy and Aaron and any other character he might have created. Then it’s gone, shuttered away in the recesses of Aaron’s mind to be forgotten about. 

“Oh,” he says, Adam’s apple bobbing against Marty’s palm as he swallows. “You gonna kill me, Marty?” He asks, smiling, like the thought excites him. 

Marty tries to breathe deep and steady. He could kill Aaron. He’d deserve it, wouldn’t he? Maybe not for what he did to Rushman, because Marty would have killed Rushman himself to protect Aaron, and isn’t  _ that _ a scary thought? But for Linda, and for Janet and for  _ Marty,  _ wouldn’t he deserve it?

Marty can’t do it. He can’t even apply pressure. He just drags Aaron forward by his throat and kisses him, bites his lip hard enough to make him bleed and he licks that up, wonders if the blood makes it better for Aaron and feels sick to his stomach at the thought. 

Aaron’s hands are still cuffed, but that doesn’t stop him from dropping to his knees in front of Marty. They don’t have long, the guard will be back in maybe five minutes to speed things along, but Marty knows Aaron can make him come in less than that. 

Maybe this is where they were always destined to end up. How could it have been any other way? Marty rests a hand on Aaron’s head and strokes his hair; he’s incapable of being rough with the kid, and that’s the problem. Aaron’s hair is silky smooth between his fingers, his mouth so wet and warm, and Marty is completely lost in him.

Aaron will move in with him when he gets out, Marty knows. There was never any other way this would end. They will exist side by side and Marty has no clue what Aaron will be like then but he’ll take each day as it comes, and he’ll pray to god that he can be forgiven, even though he has done something terrible here today.

If Aaron is guilty, Marty decides, then so is he. 

**Author's Note:**

> _I was so happy I forgot  
>  To shut the Door And it went out  
> And I am all alone —_


End file.
